


kiss my ass

by marvcltrash



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes likes being thrown around, Circus Performer Clint Barton, M/M, Manhandling, Sparring, high ropes Clint Barton, not a circus au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 18:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvcltrash/pseuds/marvcltrash
Summary: Clint and Bucky spar.A bet is placed.Both of them kinda win.





	kiss my ass

**Author's Note:**

> I'm lousy at summaries, sorry loves!  
> Rated mature just to be safe, no actual smut. This one was less than a complete hour. Big thanks to @the_green_and_gold_journal who acted as beta reader!

Bucky has been living in Stark’s monument to his issues with authority for the better part of three months, and he only has two friends, and one of them isn’t even his friend. Stark is the person who fixes his arm and lets him live in the tower, not his friend by any means, no matter how much Stevie wants them to be friends. Steve only wants him to make nice with Stark because they’re fucking, but Steve also thinks Bucky doesn’t know that, like he a fucking idiot. Bucky doesn’t realise how much he’s laying into the punching bag until it falls, sand spilling onto the ground. He grabs one of the bags formulated for Steve instead, grabbing it easily with the metal arm; at least it’s good for something. 

“Hey Robocop, you wanna spar?” a voice calls across the gym, and Bucky turns quickly; he thought he was alone. The Avenger and SHIELD agent known as Hawkeye is sitting in the middle of the sparring mat, criss cross. Bucky has never had any lengthy conversations independently with the other man, but he’s found Clint funny before. He has a bandage across his nose, and Bucky hesitates on walking over, being as he doesn’t want to cause anymore damage, as much as he doesn’t know Clint Barton. “That’s the third bag you’ve broken in forty minutes, dude, they’re not gonna start fighting back,” Clint tells him, and Bucky wonders exactly how long the agent has been in here. He walks over reluctantly, climbing over the ringside ropes and sitting down next to Clint instead of getting into any kind of fighting stance. 

“How long have you been in here?” Bucky asks, because he’s only been in here for around forty two minutes, and he had done a check of the gym before he started. Clint shrugs, looking as if he’s doing the math in his head before checking the time on his cell phone. Bucky’s still having trouble with modern phones, especially cell phones, though less so than Steve; turns out that Winter Soldier memories are good for some stuff, like technology experience. Clint does some more math in his head, some on his fingers, and Bucky just waits him out, somehow knowing that Clint doesn’t really have to do all this. To be a spy, he has to be some kind of intelligent, and part of that may be making himself look dumb. 

“Around fifty minutes. Forty-eight,” Clint answers eventually, scrubbing a hand through his sandy hair. Bucky does a bit of a double take, seeing as he definitely did a check when he came in, and apparently Clint got there before him. “You probably didn’t see me when you did your check, dude. I was doing my high ropes training,” Clint explains without explaining, gesturing upwards toward a network of ropes - a net. Above the net is a thinner rope, like something out of a circus, and if Bucky is to believe Clint, the Avenger was just balancing on that. And, besides that strange and kind of amazing feat, he got down without making a single sound that Bucky heard. Clint chuckles at what must be a look of confusion on Bucky’s face. 

“You have high ropes training?” Bucky ends up asking, and Clint nods, looking up at the net with an expression of fondness. 

“Stark put the ropes in here, all over the top of the gym, because I asked him to. I’m kinda the whole reason they’re here,” Clint replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with an equally sheepish grin. Bucky can’t imagine why he’d be embarrassed about Stark doing something for him, until he can, looking down at his metal arm for a split second. “I grew up in a circus, and learned how to shoot my bow on the high ropes. I wanted to see if I still had it,” he continues, spilling more than he strictly has to, but Bucky finds that he doesn’t mind. He usually minds when people talk for too long, but Barton is interesting, and has a lot going for him face wise as well. 

“That’s pretty badass, Barton,” he says before he can stop himself, and then laughs at his own loose lips. Barton looks at him and laughs as well, knocking his shoulder against Bucky’s before rising, holding out a hand to Bucky. 

“You wanna spar or not, Barnes?” Clint says, and Bucky takes his hand, contemplating for a moment on just pulling Barton back down with him before getting up. Clint throws him a little, surprising Bucky; he didn’t think normal humans could have enough upper body strength to throw him at all. He does not think about it at all, and it totally does not turn him on in the slightest; that would be preposterous. At least, if he was thinking about getting slammed into a wall by Hawkeye, Steve might stop being scared that he’s homophobic, which Bucky knows is one of his fears as well. Honestly, Steve thinks he notices nothing. 

“How’s about we make things interesting?” Clint suggests, and Bucky’s definitely interested, and not just by muscular forearms. Bucky tilts his head and Clint seems encouraged, continuing, “I win, you have to get on the ropes with me. You win, I give you one piece of dirt on each Avenger.” It’s a win-win situation for Bucky, who wants to see if he can survive the ropes anyway, so he nods. He’s grinning when he gets into a fighting stance across from Clint, though not for very long. Clint strikes fast and hard, immediately going for Bucky’s diaphragm with the heel of his hand, the hit distracting enough that Bucky gets his feet swiped out from beneath him with a well placed kick at his ankles. 

“Get your head in the game, Barnes,” Clint commands, and Bucky rolls out from where he would have been beneath Clint. He sends a punch into Clint’s stomach only to have it blocked, the agent using his arm to turn him around, crowding behind his back. “You still don’t have your head in the game, Soldier,” Clint near-whispers into his ear, and Bucky is so fucking turned on right now. He ignores his vague want for flipping Clint over by his shoulder, sending the Avenger sprawling on the mat. Clint laughs and rolls, up faster that Bucky would have expected and with most of his breath intact. Bucky’s beginning to think that the bandaid on his nose is just to make him look more open, for fuck’s sake. 

“Kiss my ass, Barton,” Bucky says, leveling a punch directly into Clint’s solar plexus. It’s a shot he wouldn’t normally take while fighting a friend, or anyone but an enemy rather, but Clint is really starting to embarrass him. Not that he’s decided he minds being embarrassed by Clint yet, but he’s got to defend himself, surely. They’re fighting, after all, and the punch doesn’t really seem to affect Clint that much until he looks deeper, seeing Clint’s laboured breathing. He’d let Clint recuperate a little, but the archer is already hitting him with an uppercut to the jaw, nearly enough to send him staggering all over again. Clint punches him again and sends Bucky onto his back; this time, Clint is quick to flip him over and settle on his back, enough wait to encourage Bucky not to move, if not enough that he can’t. 

“If that’s what you’re into, sure, Barnes,” Clint laughs, leaning down to talk to Bucky close, his sweat slicked abs against Bucky’s back. Bucky gets his hands beneath him and does a pushup, using the motion to flip himself over smoothly enough to not dislodge Clint. The sight of Clint, sweating and smiling above him, is nearly enough for Bucky to make the first move and kiss him, but he doesn’t. He can feel Clint’s arousal against him, and he’s sure that Clint can feel his, but neither of them make a move for a moment. 

“You win, Barton,” Bucky says, and then pulls Clint down for a kiss impatiently, threading his fingers through sweaty hair. Clint takes control of the kiss quickly and Bucky doesn’t mind at all, pressed into the mat beneath a fucking gorgeous man. Clint’s hands come down and one pulls at Bucky’s hair, nearly pulling it entirely out of the bun, the other cupping Bucky’s face. Bucky keeps one hand on the back of Clint’s head, holding him in place, while the other has taken up residence on Clint’s thigh, which is moving slightly with how Clint is grinding down onto him. Clint pulls away from the kiss and Bucky can’t hold back a whine, making Clint grin. 

“You want to learn the ropes, or do you want to take this back to my room?” Clint asks, but he hasn’t stopped moving his hips, which is fucking distracting. Bucky replies with a thrust upward instead of words, and Clint nods like he actually answered anyway. Clint rises and offers Bucky a hand all over again, throwing him a little again too, before pulling him close and kissing him again, soft this time. They pull apart and start walking, not letting go of each other for a single second on the way there. 

“Think you can throw me around some more, Hawkeye? Fucking hot as shit,” Bucky says, mouthing along Clint’s throat against the door of Clint’s own room. Clint flips them around, throwing Bucky a little as he presses him against the door. 

“If that’s what you’re into, sure, Barnes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
